


Everywhere in the Air You Feel Me (Moves Like Dust)

by writteninblood



Series: Never the Same [11]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dadward, Ed has a crush on Errol Flynn, Fluff and Angst, I took the canon out back and shot it, Idiots in Love, M/M, Martin is all of us, Missing Scene, Movie Night, POV Edward Nygma, POV Oswald Cobblepot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writteninblood/pseuds/writteninblood
Summary: Edward seeks Martin's approval before finally telling Oswald how he feels.





	Everywhere in the Air You Feel Me (Moves Like Dust)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this finished for a couple of days but thought you guys would like something to cheer you up after suffering through yet another episode of Nygmakins. I feel your pain and I hope you enjoy this instalment ♥

“So how’re things going with you and the love of your life?” Lee asks as she prods at his ribs.

Edward grins up at her, pleased. “We slept together.” 

“ _What?_ ” Lee splutters, eyes wide. “That was fast.”

Edward looks at her with confusion before twigging what she thought he meant.

“Oh no! I meant that literally. We slept. In the same bed. It was nice. _Really_ nice.”

“Well that’s progress,” Lee comments, her face returning to its normal colouring. 

“Yes, I think he might feel the same way about me, still.” She tilts his head up to look at the damage to his face.

“You think?” Lee mutters, amusement curving her lips upward. “Oswald’s done a very good job with cleaning these. They’re healing nicely. And I think your assessment of one broken rib is correct. Can’t be one hundred percent without an x-ray machine, but we haven’t got enough money to buy one so…”

“I’ll get you one.”

“ _Legally_ , Ed.” She says, giving him a stern look.

“Of course, I’ll buy you one with my own money.”

Lee gives him a look as if to say nothing he does is legal, and certainly not the methods he has used to accumulate his own personal wealth. 

“ _You_ want to help the Narrows?”

“What can I say, I’m in a good mood.”

Lee heads back around to the other side of her desk and Edward leans back in his seat, buttoning his shirt back up. 

“There was something I wanted to ask you about.” Edward ventures.

Lee grimaces. “If it’s about male biology in the bedroom, I know nothing.”

“No, but thank you for your willingness to help on that score,” Edward says sarcastically. “I don’t know what the next logical move would be if I wanted to…progress things.”

“Well, what would you do if Oswald was a woman?” Lee props her heels up on her desk and folds her arms as she looks at him contemplatively, a hint of amusement playing at her lips.

“Buy flowers. Invite him over for dinner.”

Lee raises her eyebrows as if to say, “what are you waiting for?”.

“This is _Oswald_ we’re talking about.” Ed continues after a pause. “Ordinary platitudes won’t work on him. And besides I’m not ready to invite him over to my place.”

“You’re overthinking this. You already have a set-up that will work perfectly well.”

Edward frowns in thought, before he realizes what she means. “Movie night.”

“Maybe you could ask Martin if he would mind skipping it so you could spend some time just you and Oswald.”

“That’s _perfect_.” Edward says, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it. 

“Who did this to you, Ed?” Lee asks abruptly, clearly hoping to catch him off guard.

He looks up at her and narrows his eyes. “I’m not going to tell you so you can go and find them and get yourself killed.”

“You certainly have a high opinion of yourself if you think I would risk my life for you, Ed.” 

She looks amused, and thinking it over, Ed concludes that it’s unlikely she has any real agenda here. It would only hurt her to be seen being violent towards the people of the Narrows. 

“It was just some middle aged former biker types. One of their gang is in Blackgate. They heard the GCPD is looking for me and wanted to attempt to trade me for him.”

“You’re going to have to be more careful, Ed. You’re lucky you got out of that one.”

“Very soon the GCPD will be discovering who really committed the thefts and the target will be lifted from my head.”

“I sure hope so. Your plans have been known to go awry more often than not.”

He frowns, and he knows she’s thinking of the series of missteps that got him into this situation in the first place. It’s still painful for him to think about how sloppy he was executing his grand plan in Europe. 

“Well,” he says, changing his entire demeanor to an overly chipper one. “I should be going. Plans to make, emails to send. Thank you for your medical skill, Lee, even though it’s just as I thought and told Oswald, just a broken rib.”

And in a flourish somewhat ruined by the fact it hurts his damaged rib and makes him falter, Edward leaves Lee’s office.

*

Oswald has just finished his first meeting of the day when his phone rings. 

“Yes?”

“It’s Lee. He didn’t give me much, but it will be enough for me to get you names by the end of the day.”

“Excellent. I will make sure you are handsomely compensated for your cooperation. Isn’t it lucky that Ed has friends like us?” 

“In a city like Gotham, I’m not sure luck exists. I’ll be in touch.”

Lee hangs up, and Oswald flips his phone shut with satisfaction. He’s very much looking forward to _that_ particular blood bath.

*

When Edward arrives at Martin’s school, he takes off his cap and sunglasses, today’s half-hearted disguise. Prosthetics might ruin the makeup he’s applied to cover up his bruises. He’s still not convinced that it looks as good as when Oswald had done it. 

Martin and Miss Roberts are waiting for him inside her classroom, just as she’d said they would be. He’d asked Oswald for permission, through Martin, to meet him from school, and had been surprised when Oswald had granted it.

“Mister Nygma!” Miss Roberts says, when she lays eyes on him. “Well you look just as handsome as you sound on the telephone!”

He likes her immediately. He beams. “Thank you,” he says, accepting the compliment easily. “Hi Martin.”

Martin grins and signs _hello_.

“So how is the younger Mr. Cobblepot doing at school?” 

“Well since you’re not his legal guardian, you know I’m not supposed to say.”

“Oh come along,” Edward says fixing her with all of his charm. They do this dance every time they speak. “You can say.”

She blushes and glances at Martin. “Well, I don’t suppose it would hurt to tell you he’s the best performing student in the school. We have high hopes for him.”

Edward turns his attention to Martin, absolutely delighted, unable to contain himself at the news. He’s so proud of him. 

“ _That’s_ what I like to hear! Who’s my little genius, huh?”

Martin grins up at him, pleased with the praise. Given Edward’s own genius level intellect, Martin _should_ be pleased. He would never bestow that title upon just _anyone_.

“I imagine you and the senior Mr. Cobblepot must have worked things out?” Miss Roberts says, breaking Edward and Martin’s moment. “I’m very glad to see it. You seem very happy.”

Edward falters in his unrestrained glee. What has Oswald been talking with Miss Roberts about? It’s too risky to proceed not knowing. 

“Martin certainly deserves two loving parents after everything he’s been through.” Miss Roberts adds. 

Edward feels himself blushing at the idea of being Martin’s parent and therefore Oswald’s partner. Martin shifts uncomfortably on his feet at the mention of his past, and Edward immediately forgets his own discomfort. Edward understands Martin’s not wanting to talk about his past like no one else does. 

“Martin deserves the best of everything,” Edward agrees, eager to steer them away from that topic. Martin smiles up at him gratefully. 

“Come on,” Edward says, grinning and holding his hand out to Martin. “Let’s go get ice cream.”

*

Miss Roberts follows them to the doorway of the classroom, leaning against the frame and folding her arms. She watches them walk down the empty hall together, Martin’s hand trustingly in Mr. Nygma’s. They make an endearing pair, back lit by the bright light of the school entrance, as Mr. Nygma tells Martin about his favourite place to get ice cream, and what flavours he likes. She doesn’t miss the way that Martin looks up at Mr. Nygma as if he’s his hero.

She hopes that Martin’s father and Mr. Nygma will make it work together, because in all her years of teaching, she’s never had anyone contact her for progress updates as much as the two of them. Martin is a very lucky boy indeed. 

*

Edward and Martin sit opposite each other in a 50s style booth in an ice cream parlour, in a good part of town (by Gotham standards), not too far from the Iceberg Lounge. 

Martin is tucking into his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream with the enthusiasm only a child could exhibit. That said, Edward is feeling quite ecstatic about his own rainbow coloured ice cream with sprinkles. Martin had eyed him curiously when he’d made his order, telling him that it was usually only kids that ordered that one. Edward had said to him, “why should they have all the fun?” and had upgraded the tub size to large. 

“I had an idea I wanted to run by you,” Edward begins, feeling a bit more nervous than he thought he would. He absolutely will not do this without Martin’s approval. 

_What is it?_

_I would like to spend some more time with your dad._ He pauses to carve plenty of ice cream onto his spoon. At least he already has comfort food in front of him if this goes wrong. _And I wondered if on Monday night, just for one night, myself and Oswald could have our own movie night?_

Martin tilts his head inquisitively. Edward hurries to fill his mouth with more ice cream. Since being frozen, he no longer gets head freezes from cold food. One of the very few perks of his time in the ice. 

_You mean like a date?_

Despite the fact he’s eating ice cold food, he can feel his cheeks colour. He takes a deep breath.

_Yes, exactly._

Martin grins, his mouth utterly covered in chocolate ice cream. Edward absently grabs a napkin from the dispenser and slides it across the table to Martin. He obediently cleans his mouth with it and goes back to eating.

_You want to date my dad?_

“Date” sounds so high school, but he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to try and describe the depth of his feelings towards Oswald, so he simply nods. 

_Do you love him?_

That catches Edward entirely off guard. He automatically goes to eat more ice cream but is dismayed to find the tub empty. 

Martin takes pity on him and pushes his own tub across the table. 

_No, it’s fine, thank you._

_Share with me, I won’t finish it all._

It is the largest portion the parlour serves (when you want to gain a child’s favour, what else do you get?), and he supposes it _is_ a lot. He picks up his spoon and carves off a piece equal parts brownie and ice cream. It tastes _so_ good, and it emboldens him.

 _Yes, I do._ He finally answers. It’s the first time he’s admitted it to anyone other than himself. He feels just a little bit lighter.

Martin’s face lights up. _I thought you probably did. I tried to read you, to see if I could tell, but you never showed anything. But I didn’t really need to be able to see it. I mean, you’d be stupid not to. I have the best dad in the world._

Martin’s glowing opinion of Oswald makes Edward feel strangely warm. 

_So you don’t mind about Monday?_

They finish the ice cream and both wipe at their mouths, putting their tubs to one side. 

_Do you promise you won’t hurt him?_

Edward sighs and looks down at the table. 

_I can’t promise that. I can promise that I’ll try not to. And anyway, I’m not even completely certain of how he feels about me. But he loved me once, so maybe he could fall in love with me again._

Martin looks at him as if he has just said something incredibly stupid.

 _What?_ Edward signs.

_Nothing. You can have Monday. I have a project for the science fair to work on anyway._

“A science project?” Edward blurts out excitedly. Martin looks amused. Edward supposes he knew that he’d be disappointed to miss any of the planning for that. “What are you going to do for it?”

And from there they get into a discussion about Martin’s ideas for a project that will knock the socks off all the competition. As Edward reads his hands, he thinks about how grateful he is that Martin took a huge chance and reached out to him, despite knowing of his and Oswald’s contentious relationship. Perhaps Martin, in his way, has more wisdom than both Oswald and himself. 

*

“I’m sure the Riddler would have dealt with you himself if he wasn’t recovering from his injuries.” Oswald says, circling the men who’d attacked Edward, like a bird of prey. “But I don’t like to think of you getting to live after what you did to him. And what cowards you are. It took _six_ of you to bring him down, and even then, he still bested you. It’s embarrassing, really.”

They’re in the middle of a closed Cherry’s, Oswald having paid Lee handsomely to use the space, since the room he used to use for activities of this type is now the movie room. 

“Why do you care so much about the stupid Riddler anyway?” One of them daringly asks. 

When Oswald rounds on him, the look in his eyes is pure fire. The man cowers as Oswald uses his knife to tilt his head up.

“Because he is _everything_ to me.” He takes the knife away and the man sags briefly with relief.

“I don’t expect men like yourselves to understand what it is to love someone more than your own life.” He goes back to pacing. “But you were willing to take a risk to have your associate released, so I suppose you’re not entirely without mettle or loyalty.”

“So does that mean you’ll let us go?”

“The problem is that you attacked the Riddler. And anyone that crosses the Riddler, crosses the Penguin.” He withdraws a gun from his belt and shoots the last man to speak in the head. The blood splatters across the faces of the men either side of him and they whimper in terror. 

He takes his time torturing the men before he kills them, relishing every cut, gash, stab and slice. When he thinks he’s tiring, he remembers the bruises on Edward’s face, and the way he’d held his middle when movement aggravated his fractured rib. No, a quick death is far too kind for these men, and he regrets giving in to the temptation to put a bullet in the brain of the man who’d spoken up. 

The thought of anyone causing Edward pain, deliberately or otherwise, makes his rage burn white hot. He lets it take over him, his screams animalistic as he makes his killings and blood gets spattered across his face and suit. 

He’d told Lee he wouldn’t kill them, that he was just going to scare them into never going near Edward again, but of course that had never been his intention. And he thinks she knew it too, because she knows that Oswald is in love with Edward. And a simple “scare” would never suffice. Nevertheless, he will have the bodies removed and the place cleaned up. It’s better for her conscience to never quite be sure of the fact that she’d aided in the killing of one of the most infamous gangs of the Narrows, and certainly better for the people. She won’t maintain her rule if it becomes known that she assists in the capture and torture of the people she claims to care for. 

When Oswald leaves Cherry’s, covered in blood, he feels an immense satisfaction. He’ll sleep well tonight.

As he steps into his limo, he doesn’t see the brown eyes watching him, and piecing it all together. 

*

Oswald manages to keep himself busy, and before he knows it, it’s Monday evening, and Edward is due to arrive at any moment. The only problem is that Martin is nowhere in sight. He waits another ten minutes before sighing and trudging upstairs to Martin’s room to find out what the delay is. He’s normally so eager to see Edward.

He knocks on the door and announces himself, and Martin opens the door shortly after. Oswald is surprised to see Martin in his pyjamas already. And then he’s concerned.

 _Are you unwell?_ Oswald signs worriedly.

_No, but I’m just going to work on my science fair project and go to bed. I’m tired._

Oswald frowns. _You don’t want to see Edward?_

_Not tonight. You should go downstairs though._

Martin raises his eyebrows and affects a look of innocence. Oswald is immediately suspicious. 

_What have you done, Martin?_

Martin rolls his eyes. _Just trust me, Dad. Go downstairs._

Oswald does trust Martin. He trusts him more than anyone. Martin is clearly up to something, but it won’t be anything malicious. 

_All right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Martin. Goodnight._

Martin smiles and hugs him, and Oswald gets a strange feeling of foreboding, like something monumental is about to happen. He fondly pats Martin’s curls and shakes off the nervous feeling in his gut. After Martin shuts the door, he stares at it for a few moments, feeling a little off-kilter and bewildered. Even the air somehow feels different as he slowly makes his way downstairs towards the basement. It makes him feel distinctly unsettled. 

He reaches the door, and turns the handle, unsure of what he’s about to see. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness of the room, but he peers down the stairs, and sees Edward sitting in the middle of the sofa, his back to him. But as soon as Edward hears the door creak, he turns around to look up at Oswald. 

“Hi,” Ed grins.

Oswald makes his way down the stairs and as he approaches the sofa he notices that there’s a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“What is all this?”

Edward jumps up and his knees hit the edge of the table, making the bottle and glasses wobble. 

Oswald notices his suit—it’s not one he has seen before (and he would know, he remembers all of them). It’s a very muted shade of green, with a black shirt and green tie that matches the rest of the suit. The lapels have a black sparkling effect, as does the breast pocket. He looks incredible, and Oswald’s mouth goes dry as he looks him over. The flawless cut of the suit draws attention to his lithe figure, and the more muscular limbs he’s sporting these days. He noticed a while ago that Edward is working hard on his strength, looking more and more like a Greek god. He’s come a long way from the man he first met, with his ill-fitting off-the-rack suits, his comb-over and the nervous way he held himself, like he was constantly on the defensive. He would never say that Edward was ugly, but the duckling has definitely bloomed into a swan. 

“I thought we could watch a movie, just the two of us. I’d like to spend some time alone with you. If that’s acceptable.”

Oswald swallows thickly at his choice of words. _Some time alone with you_. Edward looks nervous, hopeful and even a little awkward, an unusual spectacle for a man usually so graceful and elegant. It seems as though he doesn’t really know what to do with his limbs, and doesn’t really have control of them. 

“That sounds wonderful, Ed.” Oswald leans his cane against the side of the chair and takes off his jacket, laying it over the back of it. The heat in the basement is always rather stifling, especially with all his layers. He takes his usual seat and Edward hurries over to the video player to get the movie started. 

“I hope you don’t mind my choosing a movie,” Edward says returning to the sofa, sitting so close to Oswald their legs are almost brushing. “I saw it the other day and I’ve been wanting to see it again.”

“Of course not. What’s the movie?”

“ _The Adventures of Robin Hood_. I don’t think you can beat the classic movies. From what I’ve seen so far anyway, which as you know isn’t much.”

Of course Ed would choose a movie about a man that prances around in tight green clothing. Oswald hides a smile behind the back of his hand. Edward grins at him, all dimples, before setting about pouring them both glasses of wine. He hands one to Oswald and holds his own towards him for a toast. 

“To fate,” Edward says, somewhat timidly. It’s an odd manner to see on Edward. 

Oswald distantly echoes him as they clink glasses. His heart is pounding very loudly. 

For a time, they watch the film in silence, sipping at the wine, which is really rather good. Edward always did have a fine palate. 

“Isn’t he fantastic?” Edward says excitedly, after the scene where Robin duels with Little John over the river, resulting in Robin having to pull himself out of the water, nothing hurt but his pride.

Oswald sits with his elbow leaning on the arm of the chair, his index finger playing at his lips. He watches Errol Flynn smile his dazzling golden age Hollywood smile. “Yes, I suppose he is rather handsome.”

Edward turns sharply to face him. “Like me!”

Oswald thinks he was shooting for somewhere in the region of cocky and self-assured, but Oswald can hear the slight insecurity in his tone. That a man like Edward can have _any_ doubts about how desirable he is…well it boggles the mind. 

Oswald turns his head minutely to face him. “Yes, Ed. Like you.”

The subsequent smile that spreads across Edward’s face makes Oswald’s heart double the pace and butterflies go mad in his stomach. Somehow, he manages not to move or react at all. The fact that he seems to want Oswald to think he’s handsome…well. Oswald must be dreaming. 

They’re silent for a while again, until Edward puts his glass on the table and angles himself towards Oswald slightly. 

“I’ve been meaning to thank you. I know what you did on Friday.”

Oswald’s butterflies turn to bats as he sits up straight, a feeling of pure dread coming over him. “You were there? You saw? You heard?”

“I was on my way to see Lee—”

Suddenly it’s more important than anything that Edward knows why he did it. “I can assure you, Ed, that I have my feelings perfectly under control, and I didn’t kill them to gain your favour. I did it because you were injured and to keep you safe, for Martin. He wouldn’t be able to bear losing you—”

Edward looks momentarily stunned. “For Martin?”

“Yes. I have no expectations of you Edward, I hope you know that. I continue to hope that we can someday be friends again…”

“Friends.” Edward repeats dully. 

“Yes, of course. But I understand if we never get there. I will, however, always hope for it.” Oswald leans forward to put his own glass down, and looks back at Edward to see a rather distressed expression on his face.

“I thought we _were_ friends.”

Oswald frowns in confusion. “Ed, I didn’t want to assume—”

“Excuse me.” Edward interrupts, and he stands up and leaves the basement in several long strides. 

Oswald doesn’t even know _how_ he screwed things up this time. He goes to pour himself another glass of wine but is dismayed to find the bottle empty. Sighing, he trudges upstairs to fetch another. 

*

Edward knocks on Martin’s door, hoping he’s still awake. Martin opens the door quickly enough that it becomes evident he wasn’t asleep. He does not, however, look impressed. 

_It’s not going very well._

Martin rolls his eyes and gestures for Edward to enter his room and to sit on the bed. Martin stands in front of him. Like this, they’re roughly the same height.

 _I thought we were friends, and that we could build on that._

_And?_

Edward didn’t think it was possible for a child his age to look this exasperated.

 _He didn’t even think we were friends…_ Edward looks at Martin helplessly. Martin drops his head into his hands.

_Just tell him you love him. Why is that so difficult for both of you?_

Edward’s mouth falls open. _He loves me? I thought he might but…_

Martin sighs and angrily signs, _of course he does. He always has. Now will you stop being so stupid and go downstairs and fix this so I can work on my project?_

Filled with renewed hope, Edward signs _thank you_ and quickly leaves the room and practically runs back down to the basement. 

When Oswald sees him, he stands up and immediately begins apologizing.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset you. It was not my intention.”

Edward sits down again and puts the movie on mute. No time like the present. 

“Oswald, there are some things I need to say to you.”

This does nothing to quell Oswald’s panic, who if anything, looks even more concerned. 

“All right...” he says uncertainly, sitting back down slowly.

Edward pours himself another glass of wine, and after a large gulp, takes a few moments to get his thoughts in order. 

“I don’t fully trust you, nor have I completely forgiven you.” Edward begins, getting the most difficult things out of the way first. Oswald looks upset, as Edward had thought he would, but he feels he needs to be completely honest. It’s the only way forward for them after all the secrets and lies that tore them apart. 

Oswald looks down at his lap and doesn’t meet Edward’s eyes when he says quietly, “I understand.”

“Oswald, look at me.”

He complies, but when he does, his eyes are glassy. Edward’s heart aches.

“But I know that one day soon I can and will both forgive you and trust you again. I thought with our new friendship that we were working towards it. I _know_ you’ve changed, and that your love for me is selfless. I can see the difference.”

“I’m sorry, Ed. I can’t help my feelings for you. If I could get rid of them and make things less awkward between us, I would. But know that I will never act on them or ever make you feel uncomfortable in any way.” Oswald looks desperate and heartbreakingly sad. 

Edward can’t have Oswald thinking his feelings are unrequited any longer. 

“What if I wanted you to act on them?”

Oswald looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “What?”

“I can’t wait any more, Oswald. The logical thing to do is wait until the trust between us is fully restored, but I can’t bear it, being with you but not being _with_ you.” He’s so close now, and he’s terrified, even though he knows his feelings are reciprocated. They can’t take this back. This is it. This is where their love story begins. Or perhaps, it always was a love story. It just took Edward all this time to realise it. 

“Ed, what are you saying?” 

The lights from the movie that’s still playing flicker over them as Edward takes Oswald’s hand in his own, placing a light kiss to the back of it. Oswald gasps. 

Edward opens his mouth to just say it, but the words get stuck in his throat, held back by the sheer magnitude of the moment. He closes his mouth again and frowns, trying to get a hold of himself, before doing the whole thing again. At this point he’s nothing better than a fish.

“What is it, Edward?”

He tries again, to no avail. “The words don’t seem to want to come out.” Edward cringes inwardly at the pun. “Don’t you hate it when that happens?”

For the first time, Oswald’s worried demeanor changes, and he smirks very slightly. “That never happens to me.”

And suddenly, they’re back in front of the window, and Oswald is trying to tell Edward he loves him, but he’s too scared. And now Edward understands, that while his love was distorted, a part of him was clearly worried about rejection, and ruining their friendship. But still, he tried. He understands the fear in holding out one’s heart, knowing it might get crushed. But despite this, he kept trying, no matter how many obstacles fate threw in their way. Oswald was never one to give up easily, even if his methods and motivations had not, at the time, been what Edward deserved. He can still see Oswald’s bright eyes looking up at him as he struggled to communicate his feelings, while Edward waited impatiently, uncomprehending. Oswald has been through a lot since, the both have, but now they’re finally in a position to start again. Together.

 _Together._ It had felt so right, so quiet and peaceful, to sleep in Oswald’s arms. Things are never quiet in his head, apart from when he’s with Oswald. Ever since that night, he hasn’t stopped thinking about the way Oswald held him protectively. Every time he caught a whiff of Oswald’s cologne on himself the following day, his heartbeat would accelerate. In fact, he’s glad the gang went after him, because it led him to the most wonderful, most freeing night of his life so far. 

Edward still doesn’t fully know who he is, he’s still floundering around trying to set himself into one identity. But he knows, and has known for a long time now, even before he realized he was in love with Oswald, that there’s only one person who can help him find himself, and help him to feel whole. Oswald is his anchor, even when his own brain threatens to overwhelm him with chaos. 

Edward finds himself short of breath. Is it always this hot in the basement? He thinks he can feel a bead of sweat run down his forehead, and his glasses are in danger of falling down his nose. His hands feel slippery, even as he holds one of Oswald’s hands in both of his. Summoning all the courage he can muster, he looks up from where their hands are clasped in his lap.

He looks into Oswald’s eyes, and, tightening his grip, holds onto his hand for dear life. 

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think there will probably only be one more part to this story. It feels very satisfying to be finally finishing some of my WIPs. Thanks for coming along for the ride :)
> 
> Title lyrics from Interspace by Starcadian.


End file.
